


i wish you would

by tmylm



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Mitchsen - Freeform, One Night Stands, Pitch Perfect 3, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:41:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28344855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmylm/pseuds/tmylm
Summary: Beca has a lot on her plate with DJ Khaled’s offer, and she notices that Aubrey is struggling with her own things, too.
Relationships: Beca Mitchell/Aubrey Posen
Comments: 7
Kudos: 100





	i wish you would

**Author's Note:**

> I fully blame the group chat for sending Anna Camp videos for this. Fic title from Camp's own words.

This really is a once in a lifetime opportunity, something that Beca is of course not going to take lightly. DJ Khaled, the dude who, despite his bad taste in publicly admitting to never going down on his wife, has all of the industry knowledge and experience to know a talented performer when he sees one, had apparently seen something in _Beca_? Not the Bellas, not _Evermoist_ who, in Beca’s opinion, have a much more appealing stage presence than she does, but her? The severity of her sheer luck here is absolutely not lost on her, but it really is a lot, so Beca is sure that she can be forgiven for seeming somewhat distracted as the girls proceed to congratulate her on this incredible turn of events.

It is not like she isn’t grateful, isn’t appreciative, it is more so that she is still just trying to process, trying to figure out how this is actually, really happening. She knows that she should really be thinking about nothing else, but it is instinct for her to want to make sure the other girls really are okay. The Bellas have been a priority for her for the longest time now, and a part of Beca feels like she is betraying them somehow in accepting this opportunity, despite their most sincere words of encouragement.

When she had envisioned telling them— _if_ she even wound up telling them at all—Beca had had one specific person in the forefront of her mind, one person who she was sure would not quite digest the news as well as the rest. Admittedly, Aubrey’s reaction truly had surprised her. Even as Beca had continued to shoot her quick glances here and there, waiting to see a change in her chipper expression, Aubrey had remained just as supportive, just as thrilled for Beca as everybody else seemed to be.

It is less surprising, however, as the group slowly begins to break away from their trusted circle and into their own smaller conversations, for Beca to cast a glance toward the older blonde, and to see a much more sullen expression creasing its way across her face.

A part of Beca wonders whether she should leave her be, but the part of her that feels a certain loyalty toward her former captain, feels a natural level of care for her (not that Beca would ever openly admit to that, of course) eventually draws her in, and Beca finds herself somewhat awkwardly hovering toward Aubrey’s lone corner of the room, caution flowing from her as she finally approaches.

“Hey,” Beca greets simply, cheeks sucking inward as she carefully studies her body language. “You all good?” Before Aubrey has the chance to respond, Beca adds quickly, dutifully, “You know I haven’t actually accepted the offer yet, right? I don’t… What he even sees in me is lost on me at this point. It should’ve been all of us, not just me.”

The needless rambling pulls a brief look of confusion to Aubrey’s face, before realization eventually sets in. Her head tilts slightly, and her softer than usual gaze seeks out Beca’s eyes. “He sees the same thing in you that we all see in you, Beca,” Aubrey reassures, and there is something of a kindness to her natural smile that conveys almost a confusing sense of sincerity. Maybe, Beca realizes, she just does not give Aubrey as much credit as she deserves.

“Oh,” Beca simply responds, head nodding along slowly. “Alright. Well, uh, are you okay?”

The question seems to catch Aubrey off guard for a moment, but perhaps she sees the nervousness etched across Beca’s face, takes in her awkward demeanor, because her shoulders eventually lose the tension they had previously been holding, and she responds with something of a sympathetic smile. “I’m fine,” she promises, puffing out a small laugh in the process. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to rain on your parade. I promise I really am happy for you, Beca. It’s just…” She trails off, and Beca’s lips twist into a small frown.

“It’s just what?” Beca urges gently, expectant gaze trained on Aubrey’s face.

Aubrey releases a small sigh through her nose, visible tension deflating further. “I suppose I’m just feeling a little stuck, that’s all,” Aubrey explains, the soft shrug of her shoulder something of a defeated one.

Beca understands it. Before now, before this incredible opportunity all but fell into her lap, Beca had been feeling the same way. Her last job had been exactly what she wanted to do—exactly what she _thought_ she wanted to do, anyway—but there had been something entirely unfulfilling about it, about producing music for bratty rap artists without a shred of noticeable talent. Beca has never really felt much of a real, eye to eye connection with Aubrey Posen, but right now she just...she gets it.

“Well, what about the doula thing?” Beca offers, attempting an air of excitement, though it somehow falls flat. Beca has a lot on her mind, too; it is difficult to completely push that aside.

Aubrey responds with a quiet chuckle and a small shake of her head, where Beca finds herself mindlessly studying the way her golden locks dance so uniformly over her shoulders, despite the fact that they have only recently managed to dry off from their stint in the water.

“Can you imagine me as a doula?” Aubrey scoffs sarcastically. “Babies are…” she shudders, “They’re messy. I’m not even sure where I pulled that suggestion from.” She pauses then, and Beca watches the way her nose wrinkles, the way the smooth curve creases in thought. “I guess I just wanted to throw out options for myself.”

Although Beca nods along quietly, she offers up an additional, “You still have the lodge, right?”, to which Aubrey simply nods her head.

“Yes. But that’s gotten tiring, too. I suppose I just saw myself doing something bigger,” Aubrey deflates again, and Beca is sure she can see the life draining from her hazel gaze. “I just wish I knew what.”

Beca pauses momentarily then, before cautiously lifting a hand from beneath the blanket wrapped around her shoulders to settle on Aubrey’s shoulder. “You don’t have to figure it out right now. You have a million options, you know?”

Aubrey only hums in response, casting a brief glance to the hand squeezing gently against her shoulder. Beca quickly pulls it back.

“You know what I think you could use right now?” Beca begins, watching as Aubrey’s gaze meets her own again. There is something expectant in it, almost like she wants Beca to have the answer for her. Of course, she doesn’t have it; she cannot dictate somebody’s life plan for them. She can, however, offer comfort in another way, and allows the corner of her lips to twitch upward in thought. “I think you need a drink.”

* * *

With everybody still digesting the strange events of the last little while—they had literally just narrowly escaped an entire _explosion_ —it is easy for the two to slip away, where Beca orders them a taxi to the nearest bar. Beca of course does not _know_ the South of France, but she trusts their driver to find them somewhere suitable, and soon she and Aubrey are settled comfortably into a booth at a small, darkened dive bar. The atmosphere does not exactly scream Aubrey Posen, but despite a few disdainful looks, she does not seem too put out.

Almost as if replaying their previous conversation over in her mind, Aubrey’s mouth eventually twists in thought. “What do you mean you haven’t accepted the offer yet?” she questions, eyeing Beca curiously across the table. “You know that you have to, right?”

Beca puffs out a breathy laugh at the serious, determined expression on Aubrey’s face. “Yeah, I know. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity,” she echoes someone else’s earlier sentiments, “It’s kind of huge, though, right? I don’t know if… Can I even do it justice?”

This is where Aubrey is in her element; not the less than glamorous dive bar, but offering words of encouragement, of taking charge of the situation. Maybe, Beca thinks, the doula thing really is not a bad idea, after all. “How is that even a question?” Aubrey asks, shooting a serious look Beca’s way. “Your talent is immeasurable, Beca.” While Beca scoffs in response, Aubrey only narrows her eyes, before continuing, “I happen to know a thing or two about music myself, and it was not just Chloe who saw something in you back in your freshman year. I may not have liked you all that much, but I could see your talent, I wanted you as a Bella as well.”

The quizzical expression on Beca’s face conveys her interest in hearing the information, and despite the fact that her brows tug together, a subtle smirk draws itself onto her lips as she casually picks up her beer bottle. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” Aubrey nods, long fingers wrapping around the cold glass of beer settled on the table in front of her.

Beca only eyes her curiously for a moment, before tipping back a mouthful of her drink. “Good to know.”

* * *

By the time they have sunk back their fair share of alcoholic beverages each—Aubrey moves onto wine at some point, while Beca sticks to her trusty Pilsner lager—there is something of a lighter atmosphere between them. They still don’t exactly figure out Aubrey’s entire life plan, but they do shoot possible ideas back and forth, and Aubrey seems much more relaxed, much happier than she had when Beca had first approached her earlier in the day. Beca would be lying if she was to say she wasn’t drunk—not wasted, but definitely more than buzzed—and she can tell by Aubrey’s more slumped position, by the glassier look in her eyes, that Aubrey is, too.

Beca has never spent much time alone with Aubrey before, but when she is not so stressed, not so intent on controlling everything around her, she realizes that Aubrey is actually kind of fun. It surprises her how many times Aubrey cracks a joke or makes a comment that causes Beca to burst into laughter, and she notes a warm feeling within her upon seeing Aubrey’s more carefree, more unbridled joy, too.

They both decide that, as a blanket of darkness shrouds the outside world, it is time to head back to their hotel, so Beca orders another taxi, with the two bundling into the backseat.

“I told you you just needed a good drink,” Beca grins, relaxing back into her seat and watching the way Aubrey’s pale face colors beneath the light of the passing streetlamps. She giggles in a way that Beca would silently describe as melodic, and finds that the sound is somewhat infectious. “No one is gonna believe I got Aubrey Posen drunk,” she teases.

While Aubrey releases an audible scoff in response, Beca notes the amused smile relaxing onto her lips. “You’re not the only one who knows how to have fun, Ms. Future Pop Sensation.”

“Yeah, well,” Beca chuckles, reaching her hand into the back pocket of her jeans to retrieve her phone. Thank God it hadn’t been on her person during the whole boat explosion fiasco; she is sure many items of technology have been thoroughly destroyed today. “I’m gonna make sure there’s proof.”

Aubrey turns her head to face out of the window, feigning shyness for a moment, but as Beca holds up her phone to hit record, she sees the grin stretching onto Aubrey’s lips, even from the side view.

“Hey, Aubrey?” Beca prompts, stretching out a leg to nudge Aubrey’s calf with her foot.

“Hey, Beca,” Aubrey smirks, immediately turning her head to look directly into the camera. Through the screen, Beca can see the way hazel eyes are glazed over with that distinctly drunk look, and the sight causes her to chuckle in amusement.

“What’d you do tonight?” Beca asks for the sake of the camera.

“Well,” Aubrey begins, bringing a hand up to run over her mouth. The atmosphere is light and playful, and Beca’s phone shakes in her less than steady hand. “I had the best night tonight, Beca. I drank delicious French beer and some incredible authentic French wine.”

Beca’s audible giggle is likely caught by the camera. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” Aubrey continues, fingers raking through her hair where it has fallen into her face.

“Share with the audience.”

Aubrey puffs out another amused laugh as she speaks. “I just wanted you to know that it was the bomb,” she pauses to erupt into a fit of giggles, and Beca cannot help but do the same. “So, thank you.”

“Thank you so much, Aubrey,” Beca teases, shifting her body to better angle the camera.

“Thank _you_ so much,” Aubrey responds, the tone of her voice drunk and lazy sounding. Beca cannot help but silently wonder why she hasn’t spent this kind of time alone with Aubrey before; she has evidently been missing out. “One of the best dates of my life.”

Beca audibly chuckles at that, foot nudging against Aubrey’s leg again. “Damn. Should I, like, kiss you goodnight or something?” She is very obviously teasing, the same way Aubrey is—they are simply hamming it up for the camera—and Beca notes that she does not feel uncomfortable doing so. It is a strange sensation, their history considered, but Beca is not complaining.

“I wish you would,” Aubrey giggles in response, and Beca cannot help but do the same.

“Dork,” Beca comments in amusement as she eventually taps her thumb over the button to cut the recording. In spite of their teasing, Beca notes that she herself has had a good night, too. More than, in fact.

* * *

Neither is more drunk than the other; it is a pretty even playing field, in fact, but Beca still feels a duty to escort Aubrey to her room once they enter the hotel. If any of their friends were around, they would not believe the sight of Aubrey stumbling with Beca’s hand clinging onto her arm, the two of them a chuckling, inebriated mess. As they approach Aubrey’s hotel room, Beca feels a nagging part of her, she isn’t sure exactly which part, filling with a sense of sadness, almost like she isn’t ready yet for their fun-filled downtime to end.

“You’re such a gentleman,” Aubrey teases as she swipes her keycard into the door, and Beca shuffles to push it open for her.

“Thank you, I know I am,” Beca smirks, instinctively following her inside. Aubrey doesn’t seem to mind, and simply kicks off her shoes and shrugs off her jacket to make herself at home.

Clearly, they both needed this. They both have a lot on their minds, a lot going on, so this time to relax and decompress is necessary, it is helpful for both of them.

“Is it bad if we keep drinking?” Aubrey questions with a wrinkled nose, though she has already begun to make her way toward the not yet touched mini fridge. It is fortunate that the USO people are paying for their accommodation and amenities, because even in her current state, Beca knows those things are expensive.

“I mean, seems like your mind is already made up,” Beca jokes as she watches Aubrey retrieve two small bottles of liquor from the small refrigerator.

Aubrey only hums, and approaches Beca with one bottle held out toward her. Beca is willing to bet Aubrey doesn’t even know what it is; she has simply seen alcohol and gone ahead and helped herself. Beca is not complaining.

“I meant what I said before, by the way. In the cab,” Aubrey begins, clinking the unopened glass bottle against Beca’s.

“Oh yeah?” Beca questions with a slightly tilted head, eyeing Aubrey with a look of amusement. “Which part?”

“That I had a really good night,” Aubrey clarifies, twisting off the lid from her bottle and bringing it up to her lips. The look in her glassy eyes seems to change as she tips back a small sip, and Beca notes the way it is trained on her own. Even more notably, Beca’s is locked on hers, too. “And that I wish you would.”

Beca may be drunk, but again, she is not wasted, she can easily recall their conversation in the car ride over here. Ordinarily, the reminder would cause her to freeze up, to look at Aubrey as if she was crazy. (Then again, ordinarily, Aubrey would not be saying something like this, so apparently caution has been thrown to the wind tonight.) Instead, she keeps her amused gaze glued to Aubrey’s face. “You wish I would what?” she questions, despite the fact that she very much already knows.

Honestly, Beca has never looked at Aubrey this way. She is not blind, she can _see_ that Aubrey Posen is beautiful, that she is incredibly physically appealing. She seems to note it much harder now, though, as Aubrey shoots a lazy wink her way. “Kiss me goodnight.”

Again, Beca expects herself to freeze up. She expects to suddenly find her way to instant sobriety, and to make a run toward the door. However, she realizes as she studies Aubrey’s expression, sees that darkened look in her hazel eyes, that maybe it is not quite as terrifying as she would’ve thought. Maybe it is not even solely the alcohol to blame that has Beca licking her lips, and her hooded gaze falling to Aubrey’s.

“Yeah?” Beca asks, though she has already subconsciously decided her next move, and it seems that Aubrey is in agreement.

Without further thought nor caution, Beca ignores her still unopened bottle in favor of stepping forward to meet Aubrey halfway, and suddenly she is stretching upward to push parted lips messily to Aubrey’s. She is surprised by the softness of them, by the seemingly expert way they begin to move in sync with her own.

They are close enough to the bed that Beca can casually toss her bottle onto the neatly made mattress, before she is reaching blindly for Aubrey’s to set it aside, too. Fear still does not take over her as her now empty hands reach out to grasp at Aubrey’s waist, at the fabric of her shirt, nor as long fingers find their way into Beca’s less than neatly styled hair.

There is something so surprisingly natural about the feeling of Aubrey’s mouth against her own, of Beca’s tongue trailing along Aubrey’s bottom lip as she begins to push her toward the bed. Their tongues, hungry and eager to explore, move against one another in sync, until Aubrey is seated on the edge of the mattress, with Beca’s knees dipping either side of her thighs.

The sound of Aubrey’s quiet whimper as Beca’s teeth nip at her bottom lip causes a surge of heat through Beca’s body, landing directly between her legs. And she has never wanted Aubrey before, never even considered this an option, but she can safely say that right now, with Aubrey’s hands falling from her hair to splay against her back, she has never wanted anybody nor anything more.

Somehow signifying that Aubrey is thinking the exact same thing, long fingers slip beneath the open lapels of Beca’s leather jacket to easily slide the garment off, before they are tugging at the loose fabric of her shirt. Their kiss only breaks momentarily, just for Aubrey to pull it off and out of the way, before their lips are crashing needily to one another’s all over again.

Almost seamlessly in spite of their messy movements, Aubrey pushes her body against Beca’s until she can flip their positions, with Beca now laid back into the mattress and Aubrey hovering over the top of her.

“Shit,” Beca hisses as Aubrey’s lips begin to move away from her own, and instead start to trail their way along her jaw, until she has begun to nip playfully at the hot skin of Beca’s neck.

“Want me to stop?” Aubrey offers, though shows no signs of doing so, and Beca quickly shakes her head in response.

“No,” she breathes, body shivering beneath the feeling of Aubrey’s parted lips pushing hot, open-mouthed kisses against her body. She pays attention to the hill of her breasts, sucking delicately at the visible skin, before beginning to work her way downward, and Beca’s hands instinctively fall down Aubrey’s back to tug at the red fabric of her shirt.

It is removed in one smooth motion, and Beca unabashedly stares at Aubrey’s half-naked top half, the only barrier now her bra. And if there was ever a time for Beca to finally freak out, to push her away and dart for the door, it is now. However, she doesn’t. She doesn’t want to leave, doesn’t want this to stop, and welcomes the feeling of Aubrey ducking downward to reattach her lips to the smooth skin of Beca’s bare stomach. Nimble fingers work to pop the button of Beca’s jeans, and Beca’s exploring hands find their way to Aubrey’s hair, fingers tangling through golden locks.

Her hips lift slightly to aid Aubrey in removing the clothing on her bottom half, and if she wasn’t so caught up in the moment, Beca might be embarrassed by how visibly wet Aubrey will be able to see she is. It is evidently not an embarrassing sight for Aubrey, though, judging by the way her darkened stare hungrily drinks her in, and Beca’s thighs naturally part for Aubrey to settle between them.

That first touch of Aubrey’s tongue following a brief, messy series of kisses to her inner thigh, causes Beca to whimper in approval. It seems that Aubrey is not holding back, and proceeds to lick a hot, deliberate stripe right the way through Beca’s pooling heat.

“Holy fuck, Aubrey,” Beca murmurs, fingertips beginning to knead at her scalp as Aubrey’s tongue pays attention to her neglected clit. It strikes her that the sound of Aubrey’s name on her lips in this particular moment should probably jolt her back to her senses, but it doesn’t. If anything, it only turns her on more, and Beca lets out a quiet moan as full lips wrap around the sensitive bud, tip of her tongue flickering in just the right place.

This was never the intention, Beca really had just wanted to help Aubrey loosen up and forget about her worries for a couple hours, but she is certainly not complaining. She is not complaining as her fingers grasp more harshly onto the hair held between them, nor as Aubrey’s flattened tongue continues to work her up in a way that tells Beca she has absolutely done this before—it is not something Beca has ever thought about previously, but…yeah, Aubrey has _definitely_ done this before.

While one hand rests against Beca’s thigh to push it further onto the bed, effectively spreading her wider open, her other hand makes its way between her legs, until Aubrey is sinking two fingers smoothly into Beca’s dripping cunt. Beca responds with a louder, throatier moan, lower back instantly arching at the contact.

Beca’s hips begin to move, to ride Aubrey’s fingers toward her orgasm, and Aubrey pulls back only briefly to release a quiet swear in response. _That_ is stupid amounts of hot, just like the puff of air to vibrate against her clit, and Beca whimpers as Aubrey eventually ducks her head to continue lapping hungrily at swollen folds.

If anybody was to tell Beca she would be ending this trip with Aubrey Posen’s fingers inside of her, her tongue working her up to the point of Beca eagerly reaching her sweet release, she would absolutely not have believed them. That is exactly what happens, though; Beca comes with her hips rocking and the arched tips of Aubrey’s long fingers stroking against pulsing walls.

Her verbal reactions do not stop even as Aubrey pulls back to begin messily, urgently kissing her way back up Beca’s trembling body, and Beca hungrily captures her lips in a seering, desperate kiss. Tasting herself on Aubrey’s tongue should be weird, but it isn’t. Nothing about this is weird, and perhaps that is the weirdest part.

Mere moments pass before Beca, still breathing faster and moaning quietly into the kiss, has to pull back for air, and she looks up at the darkened eyes staring down at her with something of an awestruck glimmer.

“That…” Beca trails off, attempting to find her words. She puffs out a breathy chuckle, chest rising and falling fast. “Holy shit, dude.”

Her hands are still clinging onto Aubrey’s hair, almost like she is afraid of letting go and ending this moment between them. Aubrey doesn’t seem to mind, and instead responds with a devilish smirk, lips pushing fast, eager pecks against Beca’s.

“You know I really did just mean to take you for a drink, right?” Beca says between needy kisses, grip of her fingers loosening some, but her arms remain around Aubrey’s neck, still wanting to keep her close.

Aubrey’s own chuckle in response is light and breathy, and it seems that, just like Beca, she is not afraid of or worried about their situation, either. “I know you did,” she promises, hand rising to brush a lock of brunette hair behind Beca’s ear as Beca lifts her head to reconnect their lips in a fuller, more deepend kiss. She takes note of Aubrey’s distinctly relaxed demeanor. “I did, too,” she continues, voice lowering to something almost secretive. “But this was better.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, thank you for reading! [This is me](http://chloebeale.tumblr.com).


End file.
